


Just A Bad Dream (I’m Fine, Honest)

by Deltaturtle



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Burt might be a bit OOC, Hey it’s my first fic on here :D, I’m trying though, M/M, Memory Loss, Mention of something violent that happened in the past but no violence actually happens in this fic, Might write a sequel for this, Our poor Swedish lad is a cyborg now, Post-Henry Stickmin Series: Completing the Mission, Post-MBH route (Henry Stickmin), RHM supports these two, but then again we don’t really know enough about his character to know for sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deltaturtle/pseuds/Deltaturtle
Summary: It’s been four weeks since the rocket launch and everything’s been great for the Toppat Clan..Minus Sven, who’s haunted by nightmares of his..tragic accident..And Burt, who wonders if his close bond with Sven can be restored to what it once was..
Relationships: Burt Curtis & Sven Svensson, Burt Curtis/Sven Svensson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on Tumblr you probably know about the cyborg!Sven AU by now. Well, I decided to bring it over to Ao3 as well! :D  
> To give y’all a better idea of the timeframe here, this is after the rewire fail in MBH, except RHM actually harmed Sven. Henry’s out of the picture, and after a delay to make necessary repairs the rocket had launched. Not confirming if it was Dr. V or just a skilled Toppat or two who helped Sven, though. Leaving that for y’all to decide on.

Sven sat up with a jolt, sweat dripping down the side of his face. That horrible nightmare again.  
Naturally he placed his hand on his chest, as he always did after waking in panic, and the light _clink_ of metal on metal reminded him once again that it was all true.  
That it all really happened.

Sven winced as he turned to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. His whole body ached. The seams where artificial met organic felt itchy and burning. He made a mental note to get that treated again.  
He slowly ran a cold metal hand through his hair, taking care not to snag any follicles in the joints.

It was always the same: the Right-Hand Man would crash through the window with the guy named Henry on his back, claiming the Toppats were finished. Sven would try to get through to him that he was their boss in the Chief’s absence, but the talk would ultimately fail and result in a brutal beating that had scarred the blond for life.  
That much was true.

The one difference between dream and reality, however, was that after reliving the scenario, his perspective would then change so he would instead be looking at his own bloodied form—a motionless heap on the floor with the Right-Hand Man standing tall over him—like a mere spectator; a ghost.  
That didn’t actually happen.

At least, he didn’t think so.  
Whoever the medic was that “brought him back”, as she put it, stated he had a brain injury and undoubtedly suffered memory loss. The cybernetics would supposedly help him to remember new items easier, but whatever old memories that were lost could not be recovered.  
That was ridiculous. Surely he still had all his memories.

He remembered who the Right-Hand Man and Henry were and what had happened on the rocket.  
He remembered who the Toppats were, what their history was, and that they were his family.  
He remembered the Chief and how he was like a father to him.

To his knowledge, nothing important was missing.

Suddenly a small icon appeared on his visual HUD, bringing his attention back.  
A new message.  
He selected it and text appeared on the screen.

**[Sven? You alright? I was alerted that your stress levels shot up.]**

Oh. That’s right. He and the Right-Hand Man were linked, as per the latter’s request. Sven huffed, mildly peeved that it slipped his mind.  
This was the first time the Right-Hand Man had actually asked if he was alright, though, which meant he was awake this time. That, or he was always up at this hour and just never thought to check in.  
“ _I’m fine_..” Sven said softly, hoping the audio sensor would pick it up.  
It did.  
A moment later another message came over.

**[I’m down the hall if you need me. Burt’s here too.]**

Ah, yes. Burt. He remembered him, too. A good man he met shortly after returning to the Clan. He must’ve been new as Sven couldn’t recall ever seeing his face before, but he was glad to spend whatever time he could with him to get to know him better.

Sven got fully dressed in his new suit, pulling his gloves over his artificial hands and reaching for his hat, which he proudly donned.

Perhaps a late night talk with Burt would help to take his mind off things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps a late night talk with Burt would help to take his mind off things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took wayyy longer than it should have to write, but at least it’s finished. Originally this was going to be written from Burt’s POV, but I decided to change it. Next two chapters will be Burt’s, though!  
> Also want to thank my friend who helped me out in a couple spots! :D

Sven approached the pair at the end of the hall, his night vision setting allowing him to see them clearly even in the darkness.  
“‘Ello, Sven,” The ginger greeted him, and almost immediately afterwards Sven received another text-based message on his HUD.

**[Shall I leave you two alone?]**

He wasn’t exactly sure why he didn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t question it. He nodded in response and the taller cyborg left without another word, leaving Sven to stand beside Burt by the white, circular railing.

“Hej, Burt. How are you?”  
The liaison shrugged. “Been better. You?”  
_I’m repetitively reminded of a painful moment in time where I debatably died._ “Not the greatest either.”  
“Ah..”

Silence then fell over them as they just stood there in each other’s presence in the dark. Unsure of what to say next, Sven leaned slightly over the railing to gaze into the seemingly endless abyss of floors below them. He frowned.  
_Come on, Sven,_ he mentally chided himself. _You wanted to talk to him, right? What’s the hold up? Why can’t you speak?_  
If he had to be honest with himself, he didn’t know. Small talk usually worked, but now with even that his mind drew a blank.  
He sighed. For the first time all week he _finally_ got a nice moment with Burt to talk about literally _anything_ in the world, but he couldn’t really think of anything to talk _about_.

Burt eventually spoke instead, putting a pause to Sven’s ridiculous worrying.  
“You want coffee?”  
“Decaf, please.”

**———**

Once they reached the Lounge, Burt got to work brewing coffee while Sven took a seat by the large window. Soon the coffee was done and Burt joined him with his own coffee in one hand and a nice hot cup of decaf in the other, which was held out to the Swede.  
Sven accepted it, thanking him, and took a careful sip.  
It was exactly the way he liked it.

..Wait a minute.  
He didn’t tell Burt how to fix his coffee. How’d he know?

He pointed at the mug. “How did you-?”  
“Oh, uh, the boss told me how you liked it.” Burt quickly clarified as he sat down across from him.  
The two sat in silence for a moment, then Burt spoke again.  
“I apologize if it’s none of my business knowing,” he said, “but how come you can’t sleep?”  
“Just a bad dream.” Sven answered simply, turning his head to instead look out the window at the stars. “Nothing to worry about.”  
Burt didn’t say anything in response, so he figured the subject was dropped.  
Honestly, he felt bad not explaining his situation to Burt, considering the man was his only actual friend, but he wouldn’t truly understand. And besides...he didn’t want to offload all his problems onto him and possibly hurt their friendship.  
He wondered how much of the story he already knew..

When the former right-hand man had brought Sven back to the Clan, most of the other higher-ups had all welcomed him back with open arms.  
Everyone else, however, feared him.  
And then there was the Clan’s liaison: Burt Curtis.  
Burt was a tad wary of him at first, sure, but never afraid. If anything, he seemed curious. Because of this, Sven had taken quick interest in him and had wanted to learn more about him, so at every chance he got—whether he paid Burt a visit at his work station or simply encountered him in a hallway somewhere—he would attempt to strike up a conversation with him.  
After all, Right said that he and Reginald had trusted Burt for years, so surely he was a great guy, right?  
Little by little for about four weeks they grew closer and more comfortable with each other till Sven considered him as not just a respected liaison, but also a friend.  
That didn’t mean he trusted him with everything, though. Not yet, anyway.

“So,” He started slowly, still staring out the window. “How long do you plan on staying here for? In the Clan, I mean, not..not the ship, obviously.”  
No answer.  
Sven turned back to see Burt distracted on his phone, his hand that once held his coffee mug now resting palm down on the tabletop.  
“Burt?”  
Still nothing. He knew how interested Burt was in computers and the like, so he was pretty certain that he had probably gotten so quickly engrossed in whatever it was he was doing that he just didn’t hear him.  
Either that or Burt was purposefully ignoring him.  
He hoped that wasn’t the case.

He considered his options. He could either grab his free hand or give him a kick to the shin under the table, as he didn’t want to raise his voice any louder than he actually needed to—though mainly just because he hated how his voice sounded now due to the alterations.  
Deciding to be nice and choose the former of the two options (and wondering why he even _considered_ kicking him) he reached out and placed his hand on top of Burt’s, gripping it gently. As desired, the man looked up at him.  
“Hey, you there?”  
For a moment Burt stayed quiet, his gaze flicking briefly to their hands, then he cleared his throat.  
“Sorry, I was just uh searching for some ideas to help you sleep.” He turned his phone around and slid it closer to Sven so he could take a look.  
Sven skimmed the search results before sliding the device back to its owner.  
“I don’t think those would help with my dreams,” He replied, shaking his head. “but thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”  
_You always think of others. That’s why you’re so great._

Suddenly, the liaison placed his other hand on top of Sven’s, gently sandwiching the gloved hand in an unexpected gesture that left the cyborg feeling something...strange and unfamiliar.  
“Sven,” He said calmly, his expression shifting to one of concern. “sometimes the best way to deal with bad dreams is to talk about them, even if not to another human being. It helps to get the problems off your chest and to clear your conscience for not only better sleep but also for a better state of mind.” He paused. “I know from experience.”

Experience? That must’ve meant he’s had nightmares as well. But...what could he possibly have nightmares about?  
Maybe he’ll tell him someday, maybe he won’t—Sven decided to not ask about it.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Burt, I appreciate everything you’ve done—for the Clan, _and_ for me—but I’m _fine_ , honest. You’re a good friend; I trust you, you know that.”  
Burt’s expression didn’t change, but he too lowered his voice. “Even if sleep isn’t an issue tonight, you should probably see a medic in the morning. Your epidermis is flared up. It looks painful.”  
He wasn’t wrong. It itched like hell, and it _did_ hurt. Sven had hoped it wasn’t too noticeable, but of course Burt would’ve noticed it anyway. He noticed everything.  
“How bad does it look?”  
“Like someone splashed acid on your face.”  
“...Oh.” 

Burt released the Swede’s hand and pocketed his phone. “We should probably turn in. We’ve got a big heist planned for tomorrow, you know.”  
Sven nodded and was about to stand up, but then noticed Burt had a look on his face, like he wanted to say something more but was debating whether or not he should.  
“Something..on your mind?”  
“Hm? Oh, um..I was just wondering if maybe we could..I don’t know..do something together sometime?”  
Sven considered it for a moment. As long as everything went smoothly there would be plenty of time after the heist for activities. That could work.  
Taking a swig of his coffee as he stood, he gave Burt a smile. “Maybe we could arrange something tomorrow, ja?”

Blink and you’d miss it, the corner of his mouth twitched briefly into what Sven could’ve sworn was also a smile—something he’d never seen Burt do since he’d known him.  
“Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who liked chapter 1!!


End file.
